Who is capable of true evil?
by Dying Rose on The Vine
Summary: Ah, the life long question. With the last ten Shen gon whu to be had, what side will win?
1. Chapter 1

Who is capable of true evil?

**Author's Note**: Dear god, look, I'm starting another fanfiction. It feels really good, to get a Xiaolin Showdown one at least started…anywho, enjoy!...And Ken from Digimon is SO hot, his icon was a tower…shaped like what?! And organ of certain use. Awesome, no…? Oh, if you knew about him, keep him in mind through out the story, okay?

**Disclaimer:** So, I have stolen so many things from so many stories. I own nothing, not even myself.

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"Aw, man, I can't believe I came here alone," Jack Spicer whined, whirling through an insane forest. It was just bright with sunshine three minutes ago! And since then, he had pulled bug after bug out of his flaming red hair. It was like they were trying to eat his brain! And they'd be well fed, he thought proudly.

His Shen Gong Wu detector blinked rapidly, as he blinked back at it. He hoped his eye liner wasn't running; now that would be awful. Jack hovered as his electro-magic arrow pointed him in the proper direction. An owl somewhere hooted, followed by an unearthly cry. He let out a whimper, quickly following the arrow. Hoping beyond hope to get the Wu and leave the place. In fact, screw the Wu, he'd look quickly and get as fast as his 25,000 horse powered heli-pack would let him.

"Wooow, they don't make them like this anymore," Kimiko said appraisingly, looking in awe at the huge stone. The walls were at least three feet high from what was left of them; grey and covered in ivy.

"We have no time to lop about in wonderment!" Omi exclaimed, pointing angrily to the Japanese girl in the camo pants, baggy pink sweatshirt with a blue kitten on it. She has put her black hair in pigtails and decided to wear bright bubblegum pink makeup.

"You mean loll, dude?" Raimundo asked the short bald red cladded monk, jumping off Dojo. Dojo was a huge dragon, and now he was a small dragon, of green. With only front legs and regal features, he shivered on the ground, jumping up onto the Brazilian's shoulders.

"Ew, this place feels worse then a Shen Gon Wu rash!" The dragon exclaimed. Raimundo pulled off a black hood. It had been two years since he was put in charge of the team, and same old, same old, they were looking for Shen Gon Wu.

"Would ya'll take a look at that?!" Clay, the king of cowboy kungfu announced, tilting is cowboy hat, shards of blond hair poked out from under it. He lifted up a dead dog from the dry leaves. Its tongue lolled out, staring up at them as though to say; "This will happen to you just as it happened to me."

Kimiko shuttered, making a face of mock vomit. "Put that down Clay, we're looking for Wu, not rabies!" just as she whined that Omi was successful…sort of.

"I have found the Cube of Haniku!" The youngest monk cried, lifting it up it was unnaturally heavy. "My, it is does look slightly like the puzzle boxes…" A hand appeared on the cube, and it started to glow.

The group gave a start as an owl cried and the beast let out a hideous cry.

The arrow seemed to fly faster than it ever had before. He made a memo to oil his propellers, pushing the heli-pack as fast as it would go.

"Oh, come on," Jack groaned, as the arrow pointed downward, if he ever got his hands on that Dashi fellow…

He dived down the small dark hole with a whimper, what he wouldn't do for Wu anymore. He hadn't one anything since last month; it was really a downer on ones positive out look on life.

"I'll wager my Reversing Mirror for your…" He narrowed his black eyes, as the swamp like black blob licked its face.

"Komori Sword," the monster hissed, making a black sword appear out of it's center. Omi grimaced, "The showdown will be…." He looked around, but the monster beat him to it.

"Through the looking glass," the creature hissed, "a in the dark version of whack a mole, with us as the moles."

"So be it," Omi said solemnly, "Gong E tampi!" The ground exploded, filling the area with huge holes, both the monster and Omi were sucked down the holes, just like some one else was.

Dark strings pulled down on Jack's heli-pack as he attempted to whirl upwards. The force of the darkness caused them to blow up. He was now helpless as he was dragged down.

"_You are capable of great evil, you know."_

"Let me go!" Jack cried, trying to stop his decent down into the unknown with his hands and feet, eventually, he did. Or rather, the dark strings let go of him.

The voice laughed at him. _"Every man has the choice, what beautiful creatures you are!" _With a dark string, the voice rubbed his pale face lightly.

"What, please don't hurt me!?" Jack whimpered, as the string vanished.

"_Hurt you? Oh no, I want to help you"_

"Help me?" He asked in a squeaking of a voice. He attempted to climb up the hole, slipping further down. The strings wrapped around his arms and legs.

"No!" Jack screamed, trying to fight them off in a panic.

"_Let me help you, Jack Spicer."_

With tears running down his face and eyeliner running, he was pulled into the darkness of the hole; two shinning eyes at the bottom greeted him.

Omi panicked, jumping out of the hole quickly just in time to see the hammer, though everything else was in total darkness.

"Reversing mirror!" The mirror reflected the hammer, just as the swamp monster shot up. The hammer came down and the monster slipped aside into another hole. Omi chucked the mirror, stopping it for a second.

The hammer came down, but the creature lifted the sword, stopping the hammer. It grabbed the Shen gon wu, activating it and sent the mirror slamming into Omi.

Jack was up to his neck in dark muck, trying not breathe it in. He didn't know why he didn't want too, he just didn't. Eyes filled with tears, he was dragged down farther. He gulped, puffing out his cheeks.

The world returned to normal, and the creature gave Omi squinty smile as he took the Wu into his dark begin. Dejected, the warriors got on the growing Dojo. They left and the dark creature returned to the ground.

Jack was submerged in the darkness, and all he could hear is its voice. Probing him like some alien from a jacked up Sci-Fi movie.

"_I'm going to help you become the evil you always dreamed. But first you must drink! Drink!"_

And he did, he couldn't help it. He needed to breathe. Inhaling a large amount of the black muck, he felt himself being propelled, something hard shoved against his chest. A half an hour later, he'd wake up in his room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Who is capable of true evil?**

**Author's note: **Hey! This will be my first M rated story. I'm slightly mortified, but hey, what ya gunna do . It'll stay teen until it's that time so favourite it now!

**Disclaimer**: Yo, yo, yo! I dun't own this show, yo! And all other ele-ments I stole-stole-stole

Reply to Shadir: Thank you! I was aiming for scary, I think. I hope I can keep up creative fear, like The NoteBook!

**Warning, this story contains disturbing levels of fangirl. Turn back if you are allergic to this type of story or plough on and review me!**

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First Job

_Dear Die-ary,_

_Heh-heh, I wrote Die. Anywho, I need to get a job in the worst way. You know its summer and I'm down to my last fifty, but what are you gunna do, eh? I refuse to have my first job to be at some food place. I love eating so much that would totally ruin my life. Better go online, date some time after yesterday. _

A teen girl with un-brushed dark blond hair sat in front of a computer, staring at it with zombified eyes. The desk was the opposite of neat; rather looking like a tornado blew through. But the girl, after blinking several times, seemed to know right where the paper and pen was. She wrote down the address, being out of ink. She sighed, running a pale hand down and equally pale face. At least that was taken care off, time to goof off.

Hours went by, and where ever a certain Jack Spicer was, it was time to get up. His monkey alarm clock, that brought memories of the one from Phantom of the Opera, chimed loudly as it struck noon.

Jack groaned, raising from his bed slightly, and rubbing his eyes. He yawned widely, stumbling out of bed. Bladder was painfully full, as it was every morning; he slowly made his sleepy way out of bed and to his bathroom.

How great it is to call something yours. Most kids his age wouldn't want their rooms down the hall to far away from their parent's rooms, let alone the basement. And sometimes, he didn't like it either.

Jack looked up at his warehouse style lights in the bathroom as he urinated, trying to remember the dream he had. He gave up, washing his hands, nearly nodding off over the sink.

He pulled himself up, dragging himself back to his bedroom. He fell back on to his bed, yawning loudly.

_Din din dong dong ding ding_

A rather short girl, with a pale soft face stood in front of a massive wooden door. It was so highly polished that she could her face in the door. Her hawkish eyebrows rose reprovingly at the girl in the reflection. Her blue(ish) coloured eyes looked at herself with most unease.

A finger, sharply nailed, hovered over the door bell, waiting for someone to answer the door. This sure didn't look like a company to her, all the better, because companies made the girl uneasy.

She was just about to ring the door bell again when the door was opened by a tall, pale, red eyed woman.

"Hello?" She asked softly, pulling a strand of bright red hair out of her equally red eyes. She was wearing a bright yellow dress and a frilly white apron with little pink hearts.

The woman seemed to be eyeing up the teen at her doorstep. The girl eyed the woman back. She had tried to wear her best, and indeed she thought it was. A bright blue suit accompanied stripped pants, both overly fitting. It wasn't cold out but she was wearing a felt hat, grey and bowler like, and a bright red scarf.

"…Oh, yes," She stuttered, her voice ever softer than the woman's, "I-is Mr. Spicer home?"

The woman looked shocked for a second, then sighed, "Oh, my son, yes, do you want to come in, or you can just go around to the back." She gave her a friendly smile.

The girl on the steps nodded quickly, and Mrs. Spicer crocked her head at her.

"Oh, sorry," she gulped, sounding a bit like she was going to cry, "I would-go in, I'd like to go in, please." The woman at the door didn't like how her eyes seemed to zip around, slyly as though she was plotting something. And it looked as though she didn't get enough sleep.

"Of course, you can take the cookies I just baked Jacky down too him!" She exclaimed, beaming, she lead the girl through the manor. After a quick stop at a sparkling kitchen to grab a plate of cookies and apple juice, she ushered her through halls and halls until she brought her to very forbidding steel door.

"He's down there," Mrs. Spicer whispered, for some reason. She knocked on the door lightly, and then sighed.

"I rue the day when his Father let him have the basement…" She said sadly, walking back to her kitchen, of that the girl was sure of.

The be-hatted job looking girl glanced at the opposite wall. It was wall papered in red and pink stripes, clearly the lady's pick. Many framed pictures and other nick-knacks littered the wall. One picture caught her eye; a young man and a woman. The man had deepest black hair and the woman, the brightest white.

Some thing clicked in her brain. The woman she was just talking to was the woman in the picture, and that woman was albino.

Why would you dye your hair if it was that beautiful?

To look good in public…

Oh yeah…

She felt awkward in the small hall, waiting for the door to be open. Tightening her scarf around a scrawny neck, she knocked on the door slightly louder than Mr. Spicer's mother did, balancing the plate of cookies and juice on one hand.

No one came. She stuffed a cookie in her mouth, warm chocolate chips melted in her mouth. Just as she was swallowing the stolen cookie, the ominous door opened.

A boy, who looked sleepy and slightly agitated, peered out from the small doorish opening. He had red eyes like his mother, and flaming red hair but black eyebrows, she assumed he took the liberty to represent both parents, because maybe he too was an albino.

"What do you want?" He asked, rather rudely. Give the girl a once over, eyes lingering on the tray of cookies. "You the new maid?"

She shook her head, apparently temporarily losing ability to speak. The tray wiggled, because he knees shook. No matter how many times she was on stage, no many how many times she spoke in front of suicidal teenagers, one on ones with strangers she wanted to impress was always hard.

Jack raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation and wanting cookies.

"I'm here for the job," she said, forcing her voice to be louder. It sounded fake, like a telemarketer or something. "You know, the one you advertised?" She spoke so fast, it was her good fortune the Jack heard faster than the average human.

"Tsk," He gave an impressive eye roll, and sneering at her, he continued, "I forgot to take that off, I don't really think…" Jack eyed the cookies again, "I suppose I can squeeze you in for an interview." He sighed, opening the door widely.

Jack swiped the food out of her hands, and considered on kicking her out, but decided against that. After all, she did bring him cookies. He trotted down his steel stairs, his industrial boots clunking.

The room smelt overwhelmingly of diesel oil, which made the girl's face cringe unpleasantly at the first whiff of it. Mr. Spicer didn't seem to take note of it, and in fact, he smelled of the same thing, although it seemed like he attempted to mask it with an expensive cologne .

He walked around a large black work table phlegmatically, onward to a farther part of the room. The girl followed him in silence, taking in the amazing sites.

Robots hung on the walls, and parts and tools rested on freshly painted shelves. The paint smell was inhaled happily through the girls nose, she loved _that _smell. Strange ancient things laid about the place haphazardly, along with chairs, food containers and outlines to dubious plans.

Jack Spicer sat down behind a dusty unused desk, sitting in a high backed chair. Her zipping eyes stopped at her (hopefully) new employer. A pair of yellow goggles, with a red hypnotic pattern in the center laid on top of his rather wild looking red hair. Though half asleep, he seemed to have managed to put on theatric makeup, that fit well with his red tee-shirt donning Frankenstein's Monster.

He signaled for her to sit in the seat across from him, desk in between the chairs. The girl sat, unsure of whether to take her hat off or not, and Jack Spicer ate a cookie.

An awkward silence stretched as Jack finished off his cookie. She made several attempts to speak, but could find no voice to do it in. Finally, he wiped off his hands for dramatic effect, and began.

"So, you think you're side-kick material?" Jack asked, elbows on the desk, he used his hands to prop his head up.

"So, you think you're side-kick material?" Jack asked, elbows on the desk, he used his hands to prop his head up.

"Uh-" So that's what it was, how…how…._totally rock awesome._ The girl's mouth hung opened, staring at him in disbelief. Jack gave her a look, yes, you know the one, and continued; "Here at Jack Spicer's-"

"A side-kick? To-to an evil emperor?" The girl a crossed from him squeaked, interrupting his rant. Jack hated when his rants were interrupted.

"Yeah, as I was-"

"To you, right?" She only continued on, gathering steam, her voice no longer sounded fake to Jack. It pulsed with a girlish excitement, that was rather pleasing to the ears. Like a carebear. "You have no idea, Oh! I, mean, I'm sorry." Here, she just realized she was interrupting. (and the fact that she had left the chair will remain unadded)

Jack's left eyebrow rose extra high, though the look he was giving her didn't sit her down at all. Resigning to the weirdness, he asked;

"What's you name?"

"Can I have a cookie first?" She retaliated a question back at him, her eyes zipping from the cookies to his face.

"Sure."

Later, it seemed like much later, Jack fell back on to his bed. Now he remembered why he loved the word nifty so much, but he was defiantly sure she eat at least three more cookies than he did.

He rolled over, and then gave a small yelp of pain. Jack flung back the covers, expecting a tool of some sort. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised. Magical glowing artifacts smiled up at him, or to speak.

Grinning like a fool, Jack held a dark sword against his chest and the box in his other hand, things were turning around.


End file.
